Jay Deru’s relationship with music didn’t begin with a microphone. It started with a pen.
Long before he was recording songs or performing for audiences, Deru was writing poetry in the third grade. Choir eventually introduced him to another side of music, and by high school, he had found his way into rap. What began as different creative outlets gradually became pieces of the same artistic identity. After graduating, Deru began recording in professional studios and continued sharpening his craft through open mics in cities across the country.
That history helps explain the personality of Skyscrapers, his latest album. Rather than feeling like a project built around a single idea or sound, the record feels like the product of an artist who has spent years figuring out what comes naturally to him. There is rap, melody, introspection and groove, but none of it feels like Deru is trying to prove that he can do all of those things. He simply moves between them.
At the center of the album is his voice. Deru has a delivery that can be relaxed without becoming passive, giving his lyrics room to land without forcing them into the spotlight. The production follows a similar philosophy. The instrumentals are detailed enough to create an atmosphere, but they rarely crowd the songs. Instead, warm bass, keyboards, guitar and percussion create space for Deru to work.
“Cashout humor” is a fitting place to begin. The song immediately introduces the album’s more soulful side, with strings, airy percussion and bass creating an understated backdrop. Deru’s verses have the feeling of spoken poetry translated into rap, moving with an ease that makes the track feel lived-in rather than overly rehearsed. It establishes an important part of Skyscrapers: the music can be smooth without ever feeling empty.
That sense of movement continues on “Sunbathe,” where the production opens up. Immersive keys and a driving rhythm give the track a brighter quality, while Deru shifts between melodic vocals and rap without making the transition feel like a deliberate showcase of his versatility. It simply works within the song.
Then there’s “Heavy Tinted Civic,” featuring Dontay Jacob, which adds further grit into the mix. The bass hits harder and the instrumentation feels rougher around the edges. Deru adjusts accordingly, bringing more urgency to his delivery. Dontay Jacob adds to the track’s intensity, making it one of the moments where Skyscrapers steps outside of its smoother tendencies.
Those changes in energy are part of what keeps the album from becoming too comfortable. Deru clearly understands the appeal of laid-back, soulful production, but he also knows when a song needs more weight. The result is a project that can feel easygoing without becoming predictable.
By the time “Hurt Nobody” arrives, the album turns inward. Watery keyboards and nimble bass lines leave plenty of space around Deru’s vocals, and his writing becomes the main event. The song carries a more personal feeling than some of the earlier tracks, giving the album an ending that feels reflective rather than simply final.
There is a throughline connecting the entire project, though: Deru’s willingness to let different parts of himself exist at once. The poet is still there in the writing. The influence of choir can be heard in his relationship with melody and vocals. The rapper is obvious in his flows and wordplay. His years of performing show up in the confidence of his delivery.
Skyscrapers doesn’t feel like the beginning of Jay Deru’s story. It feels like a snapshot of where that story has taken him so far.
For an artist who started writing poems as a kid, that distinction matters. Deru has had years to experiment, perform, record and figure out what sounds like him. On Skyscrapers, that process feels less like a search and more like a settling in. He knows what he wants his music to feel like, and he gives himself enough room to get there.
Listen to Skyscrapers here now:
